


Not Broken, But Breaking Through

by Im_The_Doctor (Bofur1)



Category: Video Blogging RPF, Youtube RPF
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Brotherly Affection, Concern, Depression, Existential Angst, Family Feels, Good Ideas, Help, Hugs, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Injury Recovery, Multiple Selves, Research, Self-Esteem Issues, Shooting Guns, Supportive Chase, Unconventional Families, Worry, positivity, reassurance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-26 21:58:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13866828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bofur1/pseuds/Im_The_Doctor
Summary: Chase notices that his fellow Egos are each struggling to maintain their positivity and he discovers a rather unconventional way to help them.





	Not Broken, But Breaking Through

It had been a few months now since Jack started promoting the Positive Mental Attitude and for Chase, it had made all the difference. Frankly it amazed him how repeating this mantra to himself had lifted his spirits. Keeping it in mind whenever he started to berate himself for all of the things that had gone wrong in his life, he was able to feel better about himself and his life in a way he hadn’t before.

He knew a creator could have a huge impact on an Ego’s mental and emotional state and he was beyond grateful to Jack for this—which was why he was utterly baffled by the emotional states of the others. If anything, they had gotten _worse_ since the start of the New Year.

Anti’s shenanigans over Christmastime hadn’t helped, of course. He had taunted them and terrified them with his cryptic gifts and chilling Christmas carols playing in the dead of night, but Chase had been there too. He’d been just as scared and he was bouncing back! The others…they weren’t.

More often than not, Chase was focused on keeping his own mental health in check, working on his depression, but right now, he was just worried about his brothers. Jackieboy was brooding, Marvin was grim, Schneep was timid, and Robbie was ashamed. It wasn’t right. Somehow, Chase had to fix this. Smiling and offering his own positivity, hoping it would be infectious, hadn’t worked so far. If anything, they seemed even more put down by the fact that he was happier than they were, so he opted instead to do some research. He knew enough about depression and anxiety to write a book, but he wanted to know about _them_. He contacted Silver Shepherd to ask about Jackieboy’s state of mind the last time they’d worked together.

“Well, uhh, now that you mention it, he did seem a little down,” Shepherd recalled, a note of concern catching in his voice. “Even when we caught the arms dealers we’d been tracking, Jackie kept saying that they were just lackeys, that we needed to keep moving, that it…wasn’t enough. I told him that he’s already been working himself to the bone, but he didn’t answer. Gee, did something happen? Is he okay?”

“That’s what I’m trying to find out,” Chase admitted. “I’ll let you know how it turns out.”

The manager of the theater where Marvin performed his shows was the next to be contacted and, just as Chase had feared, he had similar things to say.

“It seems like Marv’s just tanked. The drama, the energy—it’s gone from a ten to a two, y’know?” he sighed. “And a two-star show doesn’t exactly impress the audience. I asked Marvin what the problem was after his last gig, but he wouldn’t give me a straight answer. He started packing up his things and then just stopped. He looked disgusted, like he didn’t even know why he had all this stuff. He ended up leaving everything in his dressing room. I don’t know what’s up with him.”

By the time Chase contacted the hospital where Schneep took part-time shifts, he was expecting bad news, but he wasn’t expecting to hear how Schneep’s last surgery had gone.

“It didn’t,” the nurse who had been put on the phone protested. “As soon as Dr. Schneeplestein saw the patient, he turned as white as a sheet. Before anybody could ask what was wrong, he was on the floor, shaking and saying that he would kill them if he touched them, that he couldn’t risk it. We had to call Dr. Iplier to step in! Whatever’s gotten into him, it’s definitely interfering with his work.”

“…Thank you,” Chase offered weakly before he hung up, though he wasn’t thankful at all. The thought of seeing his brothers like that turned his stomach.

He didn’t have anyone he could call to ask about Robbie; he had a feeling he already knew what the problem was, what it had always been. The zombie had always felt out of place among them, given that Jack had never declared him a true Ego. He was always uncertain why he existed. It was as if he didn’t have a purpose; that would take a toll on anyone, especially someone who thought in very simple terms. He was here. Why? None of the others had an answer for him.

Chase couldn’t let this stand. He couldn’t let them fall to the depths he’d gone to…The very idea made his eyes sting, but he fiercely scrubbed the tears away before they could find traction. He couldn’t afford to waste time crying. He had to be productive.

 _Positive mental attitude_ , he reminded himself, taking a deep breath and snatching up his laptop.

After plenty of half-formed ideas and dead-end searches, he leaned back into the pillows on his bed, scrubbing at his eyes a second time. Fatigue was the culprit of the burning this time; maybe he should continue looking for an answer tomorrow. With that idea in mind, he moved to shut the laptop, but a popup notification from one of the blogs he followed made him pause. As soon as he checked it, he perked up, scanning the words with amazement. It was about an unusual psychologist and his equally unusual methods and the more Chase read, the more excited he got. When he finally closed the laptop, he was already giggling in glee. What the psychologist had done was perfectly within his power to do! It was going to work; it _had_ to work! All of the others had their day off tomorrow; it was perfect timing for what he had planned.

As soon as Chase opened his eyes the next morning, he was wide awake, leaping out of bed and skidding across the room to fish through his crate of Nerf guns. His favorite automatic was close at hand, he discovered, grinning widely as he snatched up some of the Nerf bullets that were mostly intact and straight. This gun was a sure shot, which was exactly what he needed. From the faint clattering he could hear outside, the others were already awake.

Slipping quietly out of his bedroom, he glanced up and down the hall, eyes widening when Jameson looked up from his reading and tilted his head. Chase quickly raised a finger to his lips, to which Jameson cocked his head in confusion. He seemed to understand that Chase was up to something as soon as the vlogger hefted up the gun, shaking a scolding finger but otherwise opting not to interfere. Chase nodded his thanks as JJ returned to his book without a word and he continued his trip toward the others’ rooms.

He found Marvin hunched over his work desk in his office, idly pushing a few cards back and forth across the desktop. Predictably, he looked less than ideal, Chase noted, a tinge of sadness and uncertainty trickling through his chest.

 _No_. He wasn’t going to back down now; this had to happen. Bracing himself, he slipped carefully through the crack in the door, trying not to make any noise. Marv was muttering to himself, as usual, and Chase slowly lifted his Nerf gun as he eavesdropped.

“Of course Alex would call today to tell me the show’s ratings have dropped,” Marvin grumbled, casting a disgusted glance at his phone and then ducking his head lower. “If he could see what I can really do, the magic I _really_ have…” Abandoning the cards, he turned his hands over for inspection, green and blue sparks dancing across his fingertips before fizzling out into pale smoke. “Pff. What’s the point? It’s not as if he’d be entertained. Nobody would. I’m just another failure in a whole line of failed magicians— _ow!_ ”

Leaping from his chair, Marvin whirled around, snatching up the Nerf bullet that had just pegged him in the back of the head. Chase bit his lip but kept his Nerf gun raised as Marvin spotted him.

“What the—? _Chase!_ I’m not in the mood today!” Marvin spat, tossing the bullet back at him and glowering.

“You’re not a failure,” Chase announced firmly, to which Marvin took a step back, bumping into his chair in the process.

“You heard…? W-Well, what d’you know about it?” the magician countered, shaking his head. “My manager at the theater called and you know what he said? Maybe he beat around the bush with it, but it’s what he meant: I’m not good enough. _I’m a_ _failure!_ ”

Another bullet went flying, glancing off Marvin’s forehead, and he winced, looking more surprised than angry this time.

“What was that for?”

“You’re not a failure,” Chase repeated, eyes narrowing as he centered the Nerf gun at Marvin’s chest. Marvin blinked a few times, completely bewildered, and Chase raised his eyebrows expectantly. “Go on, say it.”

“I’m…not a failure.” Marvin braced himself, as if he was waiting for another bullet, but it never came. After another hesitation, he leaned more heavily on the chair behind him, shoulders slumping. “I’m not a failure. I’ve been trying my best. I just—I’ve been _so tired_ lately, it’s hard to keep up with everything.”

“That doesn’t mean you’ve failed; it just means you need to get some more sleep!” Chase assured him, lowering his weapon. “Bro, impressing the crowd isn’t going to matter if you pass out and fall off the stage because you haven’t taken care of yourself.”

“Yeah…I guess so,” Marvin agreed with a self-conscious smile. “In that case, I should probably go take a nap.”

“Good idea!” Chase concurred. “I’ve got some other stops to make!”

“Aim for the back next time,” Marvin suggested wryly as he brushed past toward his bedroom. “The head stings.”

The lab was the closest stop from Marvin’s office, so Chase noiselessly snuck down there, hoping against hope that Schneep would have his door open. It had been a fifty-fifty chance lately; he’d always kept the door unlocked before Anti had upped his game on terrorizing him, but now…

Chase mouthed a silent thank-you as the doorknob turned for him. He found Schneep pacing back and forth, flipping through his clipboard of recent cases with a consternated expression. His surgical mask hung loosely around his neck and his cap was crooked; he didn’t look at all like the proper doctor Chase knew and loved.

“Death, death, death, is all death,” Schneep whispered, just loud enough for Chase to hear. “I can’t…I haven’t saved any in months. All they do is die, even the ones I want desperately to save…Why couldn’t I—why couldn’t I save them?!” Stopping up short, he pressed his free hand against his face, tossing the clipboard at the wall with the other. It didn’t quite travel that far, skidding across the floor and sending papers everywhere. Schneep lowered his hand and watched them flutter down, letting out a trembling sigh. “Now I have to pick them up. I can’t do _anything_ right.”

Clenching one eye shut, Chase lifted his weapon, taking Marvin’s advice and aiming right between the doctor’s shoulder blades. Schneep yelped as the Nerf bullet struck, more out of alarm than pain, and he only relaxed a little as he turned around and realized who it was.

“Chase Brody, you shouldn’t sneak up on me!” he burst out, gripping his chest. “I—I-I thought you were—” As he started to realize just how vulnerable he’d left himself, his knees buckled a little and he quickly backed up toward the side wall to lean on. “Why, why do I not pay attention? Oh, I’m an idiot—”

“No! You’re not!” Chase cut him off, ricocheting another Nerf bullet off his knee. Schneep yelped a second time, sliding down the wall onto the floor and staring at him in helpless shock.

“Wh—why are you—?”

“You’re a great doctor. You’re the _best_ doctor,” Chase declared, moving across the lab to stand over him with authority. “That’s what you’ve always said, right?”

Schneep’s wide eyes glazed over slightly, lowering to the floor with guilt and uncertainty. “I…”

“You used to say it all the time, Schneep! Now say it again.”

“Chase Brody…”

“Say it!”

“I am the best doctor,” Schneep whispered, without conviction. When he noticed Chase was still frowning, he said it again, a little louder, and then a third time. “I am the best doctor.”

“You got hurt,” Chase reminded him, dropping to one knee. “Anti hurt you.” He didn’t mention how Schneep flinched at the name. “You have to let yourself heal before you can heal other people. You take care of yourself first. That doesn’t mean you’re not good enough.”

Schneep swallowed, letting these words sink in. When he looked back at Chase, there was a small spark in his eyes, despite the pain. “I need to get better,” he agreed softly, letting Chase help him to his feet. “But I _am_ good. I can do at least _some_ things right. I…I’ll be the best doctor again.”

“Of course you will. You’ve got this, bro. You always do!” Chase promised as he collected the stray bullets, to which Schneep huffed a small laugh.

“I’ve got this.”

Finding Robbie was a bit more challenging; he had a room that he was allowed to stay in, but he rarely ever did. He spent most of his time aimlessly wandering the halls, unsure of what else to do with himself, which meant he could be anywhere. Chase eventually spotted the edge of a weathered, striped sleeve disappearing around the corner and hurried to catch up with him.

“Robs!” he called kindly, catching the zombie’s attention. He shuffled awkwardly around, making a puzzled whining and tilting his head at an inhuman angle.

“Ace?” he greeted gingerly, stumbling a little over it; “Ace” was the best he could manage for Chase’s name. “W-Where…Ace…come f-from?”

“Hey there, Robs. I was just down the hall, but I wanted to talk with you,” Chase explained, moving to sit cross-legged against the hallway wall. Robbie gazed blankly at him for several seconds, uncomprehending, until Chase lightly patted the floor. Though his expression didn’t change, Robbie fell onto his butt with a heavy thud, looking vaguely pleased when Chase nodded encouragingly.

“Ta-a-alk?” the zombie questioned, shifting to cross his legs like Chase and then eventually giving up, folding his hands in his lap.

“Yeah. I wanted to know how you’ve been feeling. You haven’t seemed like your happy self,” Chase commented, looking him up and down. He was more bedraggled than usual; his hair was greasy and tangled and the dark shadows under his milky eyes looked deeper than they used to. “You look sad. Do you feel sad?”

Robbie took several seconds to process the question before his expression changed, what little color in his face draining so his skin tone matched his eyes. He took a quick breath, clenching his hands more tightly and fidgeting. “Sad,” he repeated tersely, looking away. “M-Mad.”

“Can you tell me why?”

“Mad,” Robbie hissed, a small growl following the word as he squeezed his hands tighter, one of his bones crackling a little before he lifted an arm to thump his chest.

“You’re mad at yourself? But why?”

“Don’t…sh-shouldn’t…” Robbie took another breath, harsher this time, and squirmed a little more as he searched for the word. “…live! _Exist_.” Chase sat still, watching as Robbie threw up his hands and then watched them droop back toward the floor without his permission. He repeated the motion a few more times and then shuddered, tears welling up and brightening the whites of his eyes. With a distressed whine, he clenched his eyes shut and pushed his hands into his tousled hair. “ _Not_ should exist!”

As soon as he said it, Chase opened the barrel of his Nerf gun, letting one of the bullets slide out and then flicking it skyward. It hit Robbie on the crown of his head, just hard enough to make him jump. As it fell onto the floor, Robbie stared at it, the tears spilling down his face unnoticed.

“Hey,” Chase recaptured his attention, keeping his voice gentle as he leaned forward. “I did that.”

“Why…?”

“Because that means I love you.” Robbie made a disbelieving face and Chase nodded vigorously. “I do. I love you just as much as the others, Robs. You _should_ live, you _should_ exist, because you’re important.”

“Importen…?” Robbie tried, unsure.

“Important,” Chase encouraged. “Good.”

“Important…good,” Robbie whispered, looking up as Chase scooted forward and opened his arms for a hug. That was something the zombie recognized immediately, leaning into it without question and offering a hesitant, lopsided smile. “Important, _good_.”

“That’s right, buddy.”

Last but not least, there was Jackieboy. Chase had expected to find him in the living room, watching his Saturday-morning cartoons, but the couch was empty and the TV was off. Soon enough he recalled what Silver Shepherd had said about his state on their last mission, about how he was urging him to keep working harder, and with that in mind, Chase knew exactly where he could find him.

Sure enough, Jackieboy was in front of the computer, scouring the Deep Web for crimes in progress or in planning. Instead of taking aim, Chase watched him for a minute or two, taking it in. Jackie was laser-focused, his naturally-kind face set in a grim, cold expression as he searched for codes in the websites. How on earth could he bear to look at it? Chase wondered worriedly. The world of the Deep Web was the world of the most depraved and yet Jackieboy just sat there and took it all in. He took it all on his shoulders. He always did.

A change in Jackieboy’s stance broke through Chase’s thoughts. The hero cursed quietly, flipping on his headphones and typing furiously. It seemed as though he might be trying to hack into one of the sites that held some promise, Chase realized, moving closer to see if he was making any progress. Before he could get close enough to reveal himself, however, the screen filled with static and sparks flew from the keyboard, causing Jackieboy to lurch back in a panic.

“Wh—? No!” he burst out, tearing off his headphones as quickly as he’d put them on and tossing them next to the ruined keyboard. With another sharp curse, he brought a hand down onto the desk with a frustrated _bang_ before sliding his chair back and throwing his hands up as he muttered, “Ugh…why…? _Why?_ Why do I even bother?”

“You bother because you’re a hero!” Chase exclaimed, causing Jackieboy to look over his shoulder. Chase realized abruptly that he had forgotten to shoot him, but the element of surprise was gone now, so he went on. “You’re the reason all of us can sleep safely, y’know! You keep the city under control; without you, it would be total chaos. This…this is the city my kids sleep in. You bother because of them.”

Jackieboy didn’t say anything for a few moments, but he was nodding. As he noticed the Nerf gun dangling at Chase’s side, his eyebrows rose and an incredulous smile slid onto his face. “Were you going to shoot me with that?”

“Well…yeah,” Chase admitted, shifting his weight back and forth in embarrassment. “It worked for the others.”

“Oh, I know. Henrik came in to tell me what you’d done just twenty minutes ago!” Jackieboy informed him, laughing as Chase flushed bright red and stammered something about word spreading fast around a small building. Rising from his chair, Jackieboy considered what he could say. “Chase…I’ll always, always want to be better at my job. I’ll always work hard—probably harder than I should—and I’ll always wish that I didn’t _have_ to do my job. The Nerf gun’s not going to change that.”

“I know…” Chase mumbled, hunching his shoulders in disappointment. “I just—”

“But that doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate the thought,” Jackieboy interrupted, his smile becoming a bit rueful. “That doesn’t mean I _haven’t_ needed some cheering up lately…but if you want to cheer me up, you don’t have to shoot me! I actually want you to spend more time with me—all of you. I’ve been putting so much effort into my work because all of _you_ have been so busy lately. I’ve _missed_ you.”

“Oh…” Chase wasn’t sure exactly what to say to that. He faltered for a few moments and then glanced down at his gun. “So you don’t need to get shot.”

“Nope, I’ve been shot more than enough by some of the stupider villains, trust me.” Before Chase could open his mouth to reply, Jackieboy snatched him by the arm and captured him in a tight hold, knocking off his hat to vigorously ruffle his hair, coaxing startled laughter and protests out of him. “I get it, ya doof! I need to be more positive. You can make me more positive by watching some of my favorite cartoons with me!”

“Okay, okay!” Chase conceded, still giggling as the older Ego released him and set his hat back on his head. As Jackieboy led him out of the computer room toward the couch, Chase hugged his Nerf gun against his chest, patting it affectionately. Jackieboy may have said he didn’t need it, but Chase was going to keep it close—just in case.

**Author's Note:**

> This was based on a post on Tumblr about a real psychologist, who uses a Nerf gun whenever his patient says something negative about themselves. He only stops shooting them when they rephrase their sentence to a better, less self-deprecating one. Kudos to you, sir! <3


End file.
